


The Gentlemen's Agreement

by redsnake05



Category: Design for Living (1933)
Genre: Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In every gentlemen's agreement, one needs clear ground rules. Tom, George and Gilda are all sure that sex should never be on the table. Fortunately, they are well equipped with alternatives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gentlemen's Agreement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [havisham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/gifts).



> Thanks to T for beta reading.

**One Minute Later**

"And in the Gentleman's Agreement," George said, clinging to the side of the taxi with one hand as his other hand grasped Gilda and Tom's, "sex is completely off the table."

"Completely," agreed Tom. "Mostly because it's dangerous, but also because crumbs are uncomfortable." 

"It was only once with the crumbs," said George, winking at him. "Let it go. I didn't mean to get butter on you."

"It wouldn't be right if I didn't warn her," said Tom. "Gilda, my love, do not let George have sex on the table. It will not end well, for you, the table, and your laundry." He smiled at George as he said it and Gilda looked at them both curiously.

"What are you crazy boys talking about now?" Gilda asked. "Sex on the table? No such thing."

"Maybe not for you, but this man is an animal," said Tom. "He had sex on the table with me, and I never did get the butter out of my shirt."

"Unfortunate collateral damage," said George. He was grinning as he said it, and Gilda recognised that grin: a little bit wild and dangerous, lustful.

Gilda looked from one to the other. "Stop," she said, "you're making my head spin, and not in the good way. Did I just hear what I thought I did?"

"We've agreed. Sex is completely not on the table."

"Be serious a moment," Gilda begged. "Have you two been having sex?"

"It seemed like a good idea," explained George. "Except not on the table."

"But the bed?" said Tom. "That works brilliantly."

"Then why have you come back for me?" she asked. Gilda wasn't sure they weren't joking. If they had each other, what were they doing here with her?

George stopped grinning and turned his head to look at Gilda. He looked very serious all of a sudden.

"Gilda, we always need you," George said.

Tom shook their clasped hands together gently. "See this? This is how we want it to be. All three of us, in this together. Completely in this together. So when George fell victim to my manly charm, that didn't mean we didn't need you anymore. We always do."

"What he said," added George. "Except that I have the manly charm."

"I think you're mad, quite mad," said Gilda. She felt breathless, but she could hear the yearning in Tom's voice, the sincerity in George's. She couldn't imagine them together, but she wanted to know. "I must be mad too."

"We're all mad together," said George. "I must be King George, and Tom is certainly Tom o' Bedlam, but you must be originally mad."

"Indeed I must, you crazy boys. Give me a kiss." She leaned up to Tom first, as his face was closer, softening her lips under his and enjoying the shiver of pleasure she felt. She turned to George and kissed him hard, delighting in the way he deepened the kiss.

"Now you two," she said. "I have to see it with my own eyes, least you're hoaxing me and the two handsomest boys I know are telling me stories."

George pulled Tom closer with a hand round the back of his head. Gilda watched they way they fitted together so expertly, with such effortless ease that she knew they'd kissed a hundred times and knew exactly what they wanted from it. It warmed her heart and made her shift in her seat, just thinking about the other things they might have done.

As they pulled apart, they looked at Gilda to find her smiling. "Now there is a story I could hear more of," she said.

**One Hour Later**

Gilda glanced around once more, carefully, before slipping out her door and down the corridor to the next room. She felt breathless, as nervous as she'd been the night she told them both how much she loved them. She knocked on the door and turned the handle, fearful that it might be locked. It opened easily and she ducked inside quickly. Turning, she pressed her back against the door and smiled across at Tom and George.

Tom held out a glass and Gilda took it with a smile as George locked the door behind her. Now that she was here, she wasn't sure where to start. When she'd been alone with just one of them, the passion between them had been easy. She took a sip of her whiskey and sighed as Tom came up behind her, hands sliding warmly across her shoulders. He squeezed slightly, rubbing his thumbs in circles over her neck. She looked over to Tom, standing in front of them both in his shirt sleeves with his collar unbuttoned, shoes slipped off.

"Are you transfixed by my manly charms again?" Tom asked, looking at George. "Don't worry, he'll come to his senses in a moment, Gilda. He finds me quite irresistable, you know." Gilda laughed and sipped her whiskey as George squeezed her shoulders again. Tom took both the glasses as Gilda's gaze wandered to the bed. "Oh, I see, you've realised we have these damnable twin beds. I know, Gilda and I will have this one, and you can have the other."

"Poppycock," said George. "Did you hear that, Gilda? Just because he bruises easily and doesn't want to fall out."

"I don't want to fall out either," said Gilda. "Will you protect me, George?"

George tightened his hands on her shoulders again and bent to kiss her neck. Gilda shivered as his mouth ran over all her sensitive spots, the ones he'd so carefully learned about. Watching Tom walk forward, Gilda stretched her hands out to him. He kissed one, then the other, then another kiss to the inside of her wrist and up her arm to her elbow. He moved up and kissed her lips. Gilda welcomed his kiss, her fingers clinging to his. Behind her, George moved even closer and she could feel the heat of his body.

Nervousness gone, Gilda was eager to see how the three of them might fit together. She freed her hands and brought them up to toy with Tom's top shirt button, smiling up at him flirtatiously. She slipped the button free and then slid her hand swiftly down his front, pressing against his cock and squeezing gently. Tom gasped.

"You boys have the advantage of me," she said. "Look how many clothes you're wearing, Tom."

"We must be fair." He started unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke, fingers fumbling over the holes as Gilda continued to stroke him. Behind her, Gilda could feel George hastily working his own buttons open. Giving Tom's cock a last, firm stroke that made him shiver and lose his place with his buttons, she wriggled out of her own clothes, impatient to be naked. 

There would be time for slow undressing later, but for now they stripped off their clothes with haste, making an untidy pile at their feet. Gilda gathered Tom back against her, both naked now, and kissed him again as George cursed and pulled off his last sock. Gilda looked over her shoulder at him and laughed, and George cursed again, this time with desperate lust at the sight of Tom's hands on her back, sliding lower over the curves of her hips. Joining them, his own hands covered Tom's for an instant before sliding up between them to cup Gilda's breasts and tease her nipples. She moaned slightly and wriggled between them. 

"It's been too long since I heard you moaning," George said. 

"How unhandsome of you," said Gilda. "Didn't Tom moan for you?"

"George moaned for me," said Tom. Gilda turned her face back to him and he took advantage to kiss her again. Behind her, she could hear George's laughing protest and pulled back. "I'll show you," Tom said. Gilda nodded. She wanted to see them together, wanted to see their hands on one another and the way their bodies fitted together. She shifted out of the way, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Make him moan, Tom," she said. Her eyes slid appreciatively down George's body, lingering on his hard cock. "Loudly."

George put his hands on his hips, obviously planning some clever retort, but Tom smiled and dropped to his knees, and George appeared to forget what he was going to say and closed his eyes instead, obviously holding back whatever noise he wanted to make. Then Tom sucked just the head of his cock, lightly, teasingly, and George did moan.

"Not that loud," said Gilda. "Think of the neighbours." George opened his eyes for a moment and tried to frown at her. Tom took more of him in his mouth and George closed his eyes again, tangling his fingers in Tom's hair.

Gilda watched them hungrily. She'd not had time to imagine how they might look together or what they might do, but she knew that her imagination would have fallen short of the reality of Tom on his knees, eyes shut as his mouth and fingers worked over George. The flush on George's cheeks and chest, his breathy half-moans, they were all as she remembered, but the way Tom held him still and swallowed around him, that was new. She touched herself as she watched Tom start to jerk George off in earnest, pinching her own nipples and stroking lower, over her clit. George's eyes fluttered open and he moaned as he watched Gilda touch herself, legs spread wantonly, and he only had time to tug Tom's hair in warning as he came, clinging to Tom to stay standing.

Tom kept his hands steady on George's hips, letting him regain his balance slowly. As George stumbled to sit on the edge of the bed, he wiped his hand on the back of his mouth and smiled fondly. Turning, he saw Gilda watching him, her fingers busy on her own body.

"Gilda," he said, all his bantering words abandoning him. Gilda loved to see him like this, forgetful of everything but being here with them.

"Tom," said Gilda. "You made him moan very well. Now my turn." She wriggled back on the bed as Tom crawled on the floor towards her. He kissed the inside of her thigh as she spread her legs invitingly and licked up, working his tongue in and out of her cunt. She gasped, loving the way he held her open and fucked her with his tongue. His groan was stifled in her skin, and Gilda forced her eyes open to see George behind Tom, kissing along the line of his shoulder with his hand busy stroking Tom's cock. She closed them again and took a firm handful of Tom's hair, arching up into his face.

"He loves having his hair pulled," said George. Tom made a noise that might have been disagreement, but Gilda didn't give him an opportunity to speak. He licked over her clit and fucked her with two fingers instead, obviously trying not to squirm as George jerked him off expertly. 

Gilda was close as she twisted her hand in Tom's hair and moaned. She came abruptly, a jumble of names and words on her lips, hand tugging even tighter on Tom's hair. Tom responded with a sweet, muffled moan, hips thrusting as best they could into George's grip. Gilda released Tom and he turned his face into her thigh, gasping and shuddering into George's hand.

Gilda propped herself up shakily on one elbow, meeting George's eyes above Tom's bowed head and heaving shoulders. Then Tom lifted his head and Gilda was left looking down at the two men she loved, kneeling at her feet, and she felt herself smile, probably wide and stupid, but she didn't care.

"Come on," she said. "Get up here, both of you. We'll make this work."

**One day later**

Gilda sank thankfully into her chair at the cheap little restaurant round the corner from the hotel. Next time she left her husband, she was going to make sure to wear more comfortable shoes. Running away in evening dress had not proven to be the most sensible of actions. She looked at Tom and George as they sat down, equally weary, and realised that not even extremely practical short boots, with stout stockings and a sturdy heel, could make this adventure less mad. She didn't care a bit. 

"We're all set?" she asked.

"Full steam ahead for Paris," agreed George.

"And I think we might possibly have a private cabin," said Tom. "It took all my charm, but I prevailed."

"I hope so," said Gilda, "though I quite expect to be snatching private moments in lifeboats." 

"It will be quite in keeping," agreed George. "But then home, at last." He didn't say it, but he knew they were all wondering how they would make things work back in their little Parisian garret. The table was silent for a moment, uncomfortably so. The waitress brought the menus and they studied them without speaking.

"Look, boys, I'm awfully fond of you both, you know that, right?" asked Gilda, abruptly putting down her menu. Tom and George nodded, relieved that she'd broken the ice. "But I just don't think I can go back to being a Mother of the Arts."

"I've been thinking about that," said Tom. Gilda and George both looked at him in surprise. "What? I'm not just a pretty face, you know."

"Forgive me for being blinded by your manly charms," said George.

"It's only right that you admit it," said Tom. Gilda laughed and flushed slightly, shifting in her seat. She wanted them both, again, and just thinking about it made her want to squirm, getting wet already. Tom watched her, flushing also. Gilda hoped he was thinking of the things they had done together the night before, and all the things they might yet do. The waitress approached and Gilda managed to get through her order without stammering.

As soon as she left, George put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Continue," he said. 

"Well, if there is one thing Gilda is good at, it's nagging and browbeating," Tom said.

"Too true," said Gilda. "I'll beat you boys with sticks."

"Tom is looking forward to that," said George.

"Quiet," said Tom, "let me finish. I thought, why doesn't Gilda make a living doing it? There are plenty of Americans in Paris - and Parisians too - that could do with an agent like Gilda." 

Gilda turned the idea over in her head as George and Tom waited. From a practical standpoint, it was a genius idea. She could see, from the look on his face, that it appealed to George too.

"You'd be your own boss," continued Tom, "and then we're all of us working, and I think that will go much better, don't you?"

"I do," said Gilda. "And when one of us has to travel?"

"The other two wave goodbye with a sad serenade by kazoo," said George. Tom and Gilda looked at him. "What? I'm not just a pretty face either."

"It's a good thing you are pretty," said Tom. "A kazoo serenade?"

"Don't argue, boys," said Gilda. "It is a very good idea, and I rather like it."

"You'll have all the artists in Paris beating down your door," said Tom. George nodded his agreement.

"I'll be very fussy," said Gilda. "I'm not easy, you know." Tom laughed and she smacked his hand. "Hush, you foolish boy."

"Just so long as there are no Gentleman's Agreements," said Tom. Gilda rested her hand over his and reached for George with the other, squeezing warmly. She watched as Tom slipped his free hand under the table and knew that they were all connected up. It felt good. 

"I think you two are quite enough gentleman for me," Gilda replied. 

**One year later**

Gilda dragged her suitcase up the last few steps and dropped it by the door with a sigh. It always seemed to be heavier to bring up than it had been to take down. Digging in her bag, she found her keys and looked up just as the door opened and George peeped around the edge at her. She smiled widely and flung herself through the gap and into his arms. They folded around her and he kissed her soundly. 

"Now there's an exhibition," said Tom, behind them, and Gilda let go of George and threw herself into Tom's arms in turn. His embrace was just as solid and his kiss just as warm, soothing the leftover nerves from travelling. She disentangled herself enough to turn around as George heaved the suitcase inside and shut the door.

"When did you start packing rocks in your suitcase?" George asked. 

"Oh, it's quicker to start a riot at a book signing if you have your own rocks," said Gilda. George chuckled and came forward again, leaning down and kissing her again. This time it was softer, and his hand lingered on her back.

"Did someone really set a stack of books on fire?" Tom asked.

"Yes," said Gilda. "Who knew that taking Anaïs Nin to London would cause such a fuss? To be fair, she didn't actually set the books on fire _herself_."

Tom laughed and came closer too, his hand settling over George's, and Gilda started to feel more relaxed, bracketed between the two of them.

"Did you miss me, you ridiculous boys?" she asked.

"Very much," said George. "Tom is bony and can't cook."

"No one makes orange juice like you," said Tom. "And George washes his brushes in the bathroom sink."

Gilda reached up and pushed George's collar open just a little more, exposing a dark bite mark low on his throat. "I see you contrived to keep each other occupied perfectly well in my absence," she said. George swallowed hard at the cool brush of her fingers on his skin, again as her hand slid down the line of buttons on his shirt to linger on the waistband of his trousers. 

"I wouldn't say perfectly," said Tom, stepping behind Gilda and bringing his hands round to slip the buttons on her jacket free. "We did well enough." He slid the jacket from her shoulders and down her arms, throwing it behind him onto a chair. Once her hands were free, she brought them back to George's shirt buttons as Tom slowly started undoing the buttons at the back of her dress.

"You know, we did have dinner and a drink waiting for you," said George.

"I've had dinner and drinks without the two of you for three weeks," said Gilda. "You can bring us sausages and bread in bed, afterwards. I know what your cooking means."

"We've branched out," said Tom, kissing her neck. "We found a butcher who makes Cervelas de Lyon."

Gilda tugged George's shirt free from his trousers and didn't answer, leaning forward to kiss and bite gently over another dark mark from Tom's mouth, this one just under his collarbone. Her hands slid all over the smooth planes of George's chest and down his belly, stopping with just the tips of her fingers inside his waistband.

"Too much talking, too many clothes," she said, turning and walking into the bedroom. She paused on the threshhold and wriggled, slipping her dress down and off to pool at her feet. She glanced back over her shoulder saucily.

George looked at Tom, raising an eyebrow. As she walked into the bedroom, she could hear them racing each other to the doorway. George won just at the door, elbowing Tom out of the way and ripping his shirt off as Tom complained behind him. Gilda laughed and shrieked as he grabbed her and spun her round. 

Tom grabbed him as he let go of Gilda and wrestled him to the bed. George struggled to get his hands free, rubbing shamelessly against Tom as they laughed and panted together. Then Tom kissed him and George fought him for a moment, just long enough for Tom to pin him thoroughly with one thigh shoved between George's legs, and then Tom gave in to him. They kissed for long, heated moments until Tom drew back.

"I'm overdressed," he said. 

"We can't have that," said Gilda, enjoying the sight of her boys, flushed and half-naked, entwined on the bed. "On this occasion, you will have to settle for being overeducated."

Gilda joined George on the bed as Tom applied himself to his buttons. George wriggled out of his trousers and fumbled with his socks. Watching them, Gilda tried not to get jostled by George's elbows and thought about all the things she'd like to do with them. As George collapsed back on the bed, finally completely naked, she smiled and handed him a bottle of oil. 

"I see you boys got through rather a lot of this while I was away," she said. "I think it's only fair I get to use it too." She turned over on her side and smiled to herself as George ran his finger between her cheeks and over her hole. Her boys didn't need to be told anything twice.

She knew Tom was watching as George slicked his finger and slid it into Gilda's ass. Being on display like this was arousing in itself. 

"I hope I look as good as that when you're slicking me up," Tom said. Gilda knew he loved the feeling of being slowly stretched open then just as slowly fucked. Gilda moaned as George added a second finger and heard Tom bite back a groan too.

Gilda looked down as Tom dropped onto his knees beside the bed and immediately leaned forward to kiss her breasts. He sucked each nipple in turn, tilting his head to bite them gently, just how Gilda liked it. Behind her, George added a third finger and Gilda gasped. She could just imagine George doing it to Tom, and didn't think she'd ever tire of watching them fuck each other. It was good, though, to be in the middle of them, just what she needed after her time away.

"Are you going to fuck me, George?" she asked.

"Oh yes," said George. 

"And you, Tom?" she asked.

"Vehemently," Tom replied. 

"I'm so glad to be home," said Gilda. "No one wanted to fuck me vehemently while I was away."

"No one told you so," said George. "I'll bet they wanted to, though." He kissed the back of her neck and twisted his fingers inside her.

"It's a good thing I had a Gentleman's Agreement waiting for me," said Gilda. She gasped as Tom kissed down her belly and over her thighs. "And now, I'd like the gentlemen in question to fuck me."

"With vehemence, my lady," said Tom. He pushed at her, waiting until she and George had wriggled back, watching them squirm on the sheets. Gilda knew it was undignified and hot, and Tom laughed as George slapped Gilda's ass and pulled her hips back how he wanted them. Tom followed them onto the bed as George slowly slid his cock into her.

George bit his lip and forced himself to be still, as Gilda opened her arms to Tom and wriggled so he could get his cock inside her cunt, but finally Gilda groaned and squirmed between them, urging them to thrust into her. It felt so good to be squashed between them, rocking back and forth with their thrusts and feeling their hands tangling together on her skin.

Gilda knew they couldn't last long like this. She wanted them to come together, pressed against each other tightly, needing one another, and she was close to that peak already. She managed to get one hand down to touch her clit.

Tom came first, clutching George's shoulder and shuddering deep inside Gilda. Gilda followed swiftly and George immediately after, all three slowly disentangling themselves just enough to collapse onto the sheets in a sticky, sated mess.

Resting contentedly between her boys, Gilda let herself relax and her breathing slow. She could hear Tom humming softly to himself as he thought about a sticky point in his latest play. George was tracing soft circles on her shoulder. She couldn't imagine a better way to have sex completely off the table.


End file.
